


Last Breath

by CrazyDreamer23



Series: Hunger Games AU [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst and Feels, Bad Ending, Character Death, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drama Llama, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 16:31:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyDreamer23/pseuds/CrazyDreamer23
Summary: It was under those stars which appeared so real, that Taeyong lost the only good thing he'd found there.Or,Taeyong volunteers as a tribute in place of his friend Chanyeol for the Hunger Games, and eventually falls in love with the wrong person.





	Last Breath

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prequel of my previous work 'Till the end', and maybe will make you sad :)

With a not so loud sound, the knife Lee Taeyong had thrown got firmly stuck in the wooden trunk of the tree, in the exact spot which the teenager had aimed at.

In his free time, the eighteen years old boy liked to practice his aim, it was an hobby he had developed since he was a child. He would always go into that quiet, peaceful forest near his home, always alone, despite having many people who wanted to watch him practice; he simply thought it was dangerous, because if his aim ever failed him, someone could've gotten injured.

Closing his left eye, the red haired boy took out another knife, and this time aimed at a stray rabbit which had decided to stop just a few meters in front of him. Taeyong raised his arm slowly, making sure not to scare the animal away, and then threw the knife, aiming at the spot right in front of the rabbit. As soon as the small beast felt the weapon incoming, it tried jumping forward, but the knife stabbed it halfway through the jump.

Taeyong let a smirk of victory spread on his lips as he approached the dying rabbit, knowing he had also found his dinner. As he crouched down to finish the beast, a voice spoke. 

"Nice, nice! Your aim is just so good, man."

Taeyong turned around with a grin, recognising the voice as his friend's, Park Chanyeol, who was standing just some meters away, wearing his usual, charming smile.

The younger chuckled and stood up again, holding the dead rabbit by its tiny paw, and finally cleaning the knife from the blood with a tissue.

"Hey Chanyeol. I thought I told you it was risky to come see me practicing." Said Taeyong once approached the older and put the rabbit into a bag.

The curly haired boy laughed and then fist bumped his friend. 

"Come on, I only came here because it's getting dark, we should head home."

Taeyong and Chanyeol were neighbours, and that was how they'd met. When Taeyong had moved into his current house, through the older he had met various of his friends such as Oh Sehun, Lu Han – whom they called Luhan, though – and Byun Baekhyun. The latter was now finally Chanyeol's boyfriend, after many years of shameless flirting; it had actually been all thanks to Taeyong, who had gotten sick from all the public flirting of the two, and had set them up on a date with the help of their other friends.

They began walking through the forest, having small conversations here and there, both enjoying the nature, before returning to the chaos of District Nine.

"So yesterday Sehun introduced me to a friend of his, Johnny, and damn I think it's the first time I meet someone as tall as me!" the taller exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised. It was true, he was indeed one of the tallest people among the district, Taeyong himself viewed him as a giant because of their ten centimetres height difference. He'd already met Johnny, after he'd caught his boyfriend's young cousin watching him training once. 

The two got out of the forest, breathing the slightly polluted air of District Nine, and walking towards their houses. As soon as they were in front of Taeyong's door, a hint of sourness mixed to anxiety fell on both their expressions, and they immediately knew they were thinking about the same thing.

"See you tomorrow, Chanyeol. And be the odds be in your favour." the red haired boy stated, bringing out his hand.

The older sighed while pushing his hair out of his eyes with his hand, before looking into his friend's dark brown eyes.

"May the odds be in your favour." he repeated, taking Taeyong's hand and shaking it.

Eventually, Chanyeol said goodbye and approached his own place, which was just next to the younger's, while Taeyong opened the door to his house, feeling his chest heavy. 

·𖥸·

Taeyong fidgeted with his hands as he stood between his friends, feeling more nervous than he'd ever had – except for the other years in that exact day –. Chanyeol and Baekhyun were standing to his left, holding hands and playing with each other's fingers from the nervousness, while Sehun was right in front of him, quietly talking to a tall guy who Taeyong remembered to be Seo Johnny. The latter was holding a rather short boy's waist, while softly caressing it with his fingers. Taeyong supposed him to be Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul his boyfriend whom he'd talked about that time. 

Luhan was standing to his right, not feeling nervous for himself – since he was luckily too old to be picked for the Hunger Games –, but for his friends. The Reaping was surely the worst day of the year for every District, except for Capitol City of course.

The nominator who would've called the tributes finally stepped on th stage, standing in front of the mic. After the whole introduction, it was finally time to call the tributes, and the tension had never been so thick.

"Ladies first!" 

The woman put her hand in the jar which contained the female names of the district, and after rummaging a bit, she finally picked a piece of paper and unravelled it.

"Krystal Jung!"

All heads turned to the girl's direction, eyes wide open; she was known to be one of the prettiest women in the whole district, and she was just a bit older than Taeyong. The black haired girl walked forward while looking down, slowly approaching the nominator to stand next to her. 

As the woman proceeded to rummage through the male names, the red head shut his eyes closed, hoping not to hear any familiar name. But of course his hopes had to be shattered, of course, because the odds would've never been in their favour. 

His eyes snapped open as a gasp left his lips, in hearing the name of 'Park Chanyeol' being called. Glancing to his left side, he saw the boy whose name had just been called looking forward with wide open eyes, while he could see Baekhyun's breath stopping, and the hold around the other's hand tightening. 

Slowly unlatching his from his boyfriend's fingers, the curly haired boy took a step forward, and then another, until he was already meters away. Taeyong could feel his heart breaking at every step his friend was taking, he could feel his insides churning and his breath fastening. As he looked at Baekhyun he could see how the older was biting his lip so much it was bleeding, in an attempt to hold back his tears. When he glanced at Sehun and Luhan, he could see that even they were as shocked and in denial as he was, feeling as much agony as he was. 

He couldn't exactly put a label on what he was feeling at the moment, and he certainly couldn't explain why he did what he did, but seeing his friends' reaction must've had made something click in his brain, something which had made him do what he did next. 

Followed by confused and questioning stares, the boy stepped out of the line and ran forward, until he'd reached Chanyeol and firmly grasped his wrist. Not even him knew what he was doing, but once gotten to that point, he certainly couldn't back off. 

"Taeyong what-" 

"I volunteer as a tribute!" he shouted, making the whole district gasp in stupor. 

Even the nominator looked astonished at how firm Taeyong's words had been, while the boy had just realised what he did. Looking at his friend, though, he found himself not regretting his action one bit. 

(At least at the moment.) 

·𖥸·

Taeyong was given five minutes only to speak with a maximum of three people, which had been Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Sehun. The curly haired male had burst out in tears as soon as he'd seen the younger, immediately burying him in a tight hug and muttering phrases about how sorry he was, and how stupid Taeyong had been between sobs. Sehun and Baekhyun looked like they wanted to cry as well, but they were keeping the tears in, for they knew they would've just worsened the situation.

Soon after Chanyeol detached himself from Taeyong, he went straight to his boyfriend's arms, still crying from sadness and guilt. Baekhyun just stared at his friend, while mouthing a 'thank you', but still looking at him as if he was the most stupid person in the world. He knew Baekhyun wasn't being selfish, he just probably didn't know what to feel at the moment, having his boyfriend safe but one of his best friends probably on the verge of death. 

The youngest among his friends stepped forward and embraced the red haired boy, patting his shoulder. 

"You better win." 

Taeyong just nodded, feeling doubtful. Winning the Hunger Games meant most probably having to kill all of the other tributes, a whole twenty-three people, and then having to bear the weight of their deaths and of their families mourning. He shook those thoughts off, deciding he would've thought about it when the games would've started. 

After what seemed to be a too little time, they were roughly pushed out, while the tribute was pushed towards the train to Capitol.

·𖥸·

There he met his mentor, who was already speaking to the other tribute, Krystal. His name was Kwon Jiyong, who'd won the Hunger Games many years prior, at the very little age of fourteen years, and who was known for his brutality. Actually, he had just killed two of the other tributes, but the way he'd murdered them with such cold blood had given chills to most of Panem. Taeyong had expected his personality to be severe and strong, but he was met with the exact opposite: the man seemed to always smile, he was undoubtedly a cheerful person, who liked to joke here and there, even while talking about serious matters.

For a while they discussed about strategies mostly, and how to get as many allies as possible, and that's when Taeyong's skills of a strategist were discovered. Even Jiyong seemed astonished at the younger's ideas of strategies, which even he wouldn't have been able to think of.

"I'm amazed by you, Lee Taeyong. I feel like you'll get a lot of allies." chuckled the mentor while grinning, making his features even more handsome.

(Little did Taeyong know how things would go with those 'allies' of his.)

·𖥸·

He was introduced to his stylist Amber Liu, who grinned and promised Taeyong she would've made him look so gorgeous that even the most handsome gods would've been jelous of him. The woman had a boyish style, with short blue hair and wearing some large sweatpants and a tank top, showing all of her tattoos on her forearms. Taeyong didn't like girls, but he had to admit she was pretty attractive.

After he'd been washed and cleaned, she took some measurements to make him an outfit. 

"You have a nice body and extremely handsome features, I'll make sure my outfit and makeup will make you stand out even more than you already do." she promised, while scribbling something on a paper.

 

And she'd been right.

As soon as he was out with all of the other tributes, it seemed like everyone's eyes were on him; Krystal looked a bit jelous, probably because she wasn't used to somebody else taking the attention away from her. Taeyong couldn't think of a reason for her to feel envious, though, for he thought she looked stunning as well.

It was in that moment the red haired boy found himself looking for the first time in the dark eyes of Jung Yoonoh, District Two's male tribute. Jiyong had talked about the other tributes to them, and his words about District One and Two's tributes came back to his mind in that moment.

"Never trust District One and Two's tributes. They have special arenas in their districts where they train until they're ready, and then they volunteer with the sole aim of winning and gaining glory." he had said, "They're favoured by Capitol and the sponsors, so I'd recommend them as allies, but beware and don't trust them too much."

At the thought Taeyong moved his eyes away, but not before witnessing the other smirking, but in a rather mocking way, which had made the red head's skin crawl in both rage and sudden nervousness.

Krystal elbowed him in his side, snapping the boy out of his thoughts, which made him realise their mentor was talking.

"Uh- sorry. I'm listening." he said, looking at Jiyong in embarrassment.

The man just grinned and shook his head with a 'don't worry', before repeating what he'd previously said.

"As I was saying, you need to appear strong to the audience, and to please them. Make them fall in love with you." he stated, still keeping that beautiful grin spread on his lips.

It must've had been easy for Jiyong to make Panem fall for him, Taeyong thought, because he had seen some videos of him in the Hunger Games, and even when he was just a young boy, he still looked handsome as hell, and with that smile it was even possible some people could've fainted just by seeing it.

But in all honesty, Taeyong thought he didn't look that bad himself, with that black suit with red details which matched his red hair perfectly, and those grey lenses made his eyes look deeper in some way. Plus with the smokey makeup around his eyes, yes, he could say he looked handsome.

·𖥸·

After the introduction, Jiyong had approached the two tributes of District Nine, communicating them they made a great impact on the audience, and that they would've probably had that image of them printed in their mind for a lot of time. As they spoke, the two tributes of District Two and their mentor walked by eyeing the three with what Taeyong could label as a sense of superiority.

Their mentor was someone the red head perfectly knew, someone literally  _everyone_ knew: it was three years prior's winner, Choi Minho, who had won by luring the other tributes in, pretending to want to be their ally, and then killing them, until there was just him and another tribute standing, whom he had killed without hesitation. He was a snake.

The female tribute was Im Nayeon, truly beautiful woman, if it wasn't for the look she'd been giving them. And the male tribute was one they'd already met, Jung Yoonoh, whose lips again morphed into that mocking smirk which Taeyong was truly starting to hate by now.

·𖥸·

The training room was huge, and full of technologies of which Taeyong didn't even know the existence. He wasn't physically strong, and he was aware of that, so he wisely decided not to go for the weights lifting; actually, he didn't like to even call himself a fighter, he apparently but evidently was more of a strategist, but he thought he should've shown some skills to the Gamemakers, or he wouldn't have gotten any help from the sponsors. He decided to show off his aiming skills, instead, but he'd never used a bow. That's why as soon as he eyed an axe lying on the ground, he immediately went to pick it up.

"Hey, I was about to take that." a voice came, making the red head turn around with his browns raised.

Surprisingly enough, it was Jung Yoonoh who'd decided to bother him, approaching the older with that arrogant smirk of his. Taeyong knew exactly what the other wanted from him, but he certainly wasn't one to show a weak side. He scoffed, bringing the weapon closer to his chest.

"I guess you were too late. Go train with something else." Taeyong replied, eyeing the taller in an intimidating way which he knew he could easily pull off. He had been told by many people that his glare could give chills even to the biggest jock alive, and in that moment he hoped it to be true. 

"Listen, you don't know who you're messing with." Yoonoh threatened through his teeth, and then walked past the shorter boy, but not before making sure to bump their shoulders with such force to almost make him lose his balance. 

 

After that, there had been many other episodes of the kind, where them both had to get separated by the other tributes to avoid one of them killing the other before it was actually time. 

"Taeyong you need to stop fighting with District Two's Yoonoh. I know he's the one picking fights, but you need to resist the urge to fight back. You'll have plenty of time in the Hunger Games to do that." Jiyong had scolded him one day, after he'd let a fist slip and hit the younger on the cheek. 

It hadn't actually been a strong hit, but it'd driven Yoonoh mad enough to answer the offence with a strong shove, which would've made Taeyong fall on the floor, if it hadn't been for Jongdae, District Four's male tribute, who'd happened to be standing behind him and had caught the boy in time. 

Kim Jongdae was just an inch shorter than him, even though he was older, and his soft features gave him the looks of a seemingly innocent and clueless guy. His hair were dyed bright orange, which Taeyong thought suited him really well. 

He had thanked the older, who'd answered with a grin; maybe they could be allies, the red head thought in that moment. 

(But by the end of the games, little did he know Jongdae would've been far from the word 'ally', to him.) 

·𖥸·

Taeyong was in the showers, the first time he'd been able to have a normal (read: rather awkward) conversation with Jung Yoonoh. He'd been washing his hair, observing with a sour expression as a bit of the red hair dye was being washed from his hair as well, since they hadn't been given proper shampoos for hair dye. 

Suddenly someone had knocked on the door, which had made the boy hesitantly turn the water off. 

"I'm sorry," it was Yoonoh's voice, the older was now able to recognise it. "I'd need the shampoo." 

Being the nice person he was, the older grabbed the bottle of shampoo – which had caused part of his hair dye to come off, curse it – and opened the door, not really caring about his nudity. Yoonoh seemed to put a lot of effort into not even glancing too low, when he grabbed the bottle with a muttered 'thank you'. 

For some reason Taeyong didn't feel like letting their small interaction die there, for he commented, 

"You're lucky you don't have hair dye, look what that shampoo has done to my scalp." he pointed at his now fading red hair, still damp for the water. 

The black haired boy glanced at him weirdly, but then managed to let out an awkward chuckle. 

"You're gonna turn white by the start of the games." he joked before closing the door for Taeyong and walking into another stall. 

·𖥸·

Two weeks had surely flew away, Taeyong thought as he sat down on the comfortable chair next to Lee Taemin, the flawless interviewer. Amber had once again done a more than great job with his outfit and makeup, without forgetting the grey eye lenses, which Panem had seemed to love during the introduction. 

"Lee Taeyong, from District Nine!" introduced Taemin with a perfect smile to the audience, then turning slightly around so that he was facing him. 

After a few of the usual questions, to which he'd answered using the practiced speeches he'd learned with Jiyong, trying his best to show a natural demeanour, there was the question which hit him the most. 

"Obviously we've all heard about it, and I can bet everyone was waiting for this one question." He looked into Taeyong's eyes with something akin to pity and sympathy, and the red head really couldn't tell if the interviewer was being fake or not. 

"We all know you've volunteered to take the place of your friend, Chanyeol, was it? What made you take such a harsh decision? Do you think he would've done the same for you?" 

He gulped, trying hard to keep the sweat from trickling down his forehead. Jiyong was sure they would've asked him that question, and had scripted the perfect answer to it, but  _screw that_ though Taeyong, he was going to answer with what he truly felt. 

"I honestly don't know what got into me, it was more an act of impulse. I guess I thought about how much out other friends would've suffered if he died, and how his lover would've felt destroyed. And obviously I couldn't bear the thought of losing my best friend."

Taemin nodded, gesturing him to continue with the second question. 

"As for if he would've done the same for me, I am not sure. Chanyeol has a kind soul, he would certainly think about it, but maybe he would also think about how his lover would feel. Nevertheless, I wouldn't want anyone to volunteer in my place, for I couldn't bear the weight of their possible death on my shoulders."

With that statement, he hoped Chanyeol and his other friends were watching him right now, and understand how he felt about volunteering, he hoped to his best friend to understand he did not regret it. 

(Taeyong had no idea how a weird feeling had spread into Yoonoh's chest in that moment, while watching his interview.) 

·𖥸·

It was finally night, the night before the start of the games, and Taeyong was ready to get back into his room, when he stopped because of the sight of a Jung Yoonoh sitting in front of an opened window, from where the beautiful scenery of the twilight sky could be seen. 

"You smoke?" the older asked, surprised, as he noticed the cigarette between Yoonoh's fingers, and the steam of smoke leaving the latter's lips. 

The boy nodded, still staring out of the window, then taking another drag of the cigarette. Taeyong's eyes couldn't leave the chestnut haired boy's lips, for some reason, mesmerised by the way the smoke embraced them as the taller exhaled. 

"Just sometimes, when I feel nervous or anxious about something. The games start tomorrow, so you know," he trailed off, bringing the cigarette once again on his lips. 

The red head didn't know what had gotten into him, because they were supposed to be  _rivals_. But something inside of him made him step forward, approaching Yoonoh, and then sit next to him. The younger side glanced at him, raising a brow, but then let out a heavy sigh, throwing the finished cigarette away. 

"This could be the last day for us." 

Taeyong was surprised, he did not expect Yoonoh to actually start a conversation with him, but he found himself strangely not minding it at all. As I mentioned, again he didn't know what had gotten into him, but he kept the conversation on going, managing to go through it in a peaceful way, without arguments or fights, just two victims of the wrath of Capitol City together, conversing about everything and nothing while facing the scarlet twilight sky. 

That night, he got to meet the real Jung Yoonoh; he found out that, despite what Jiyong had said, he hadn't been the one to volunteer, and he hadn't even been one to train in one of those special arenas which they had in their district. As he'd put it, it had probably been the first year in which none of the males from District Two had volunteered. Taeyong felt pity for him as he spoke, for his tone sounded more dreadful than ever while talking about the Reaping, the day he knew his life would've either ended, or changed forever. The older also learned that Yoonoh wasn't his birth name, but he'd legalised it as soon as he'd turned seventeen, just a few months prior. He explained how the name he'd been given by his parents, 'Jaehyun', simply wasn't of his taste, and at that, Taeyong chuckled a bit.

He also learned about some of his friends, those including his best friend Kim Jongin, whom he'd met in his very childhood, and some other people such as Kim Woojin, who, as Yoonoh had put it, only loved chicken and his boyfriend Chan. There was also Kim Minseok, who'd been often mocked for looking like an owl, but he didn't seem to mind. 

When he'd finished, it was implied that it was now Taeyong's turn to tell him about his life, and he hesitated a bit, before forcing himself to remember his family and friends. 

He told him about Chanyeol, his best friend and the first person to approach him as soon as he'd moved in that new area of District Nine. As he mentioned how he'd volunteered to take his place, Yoonoh had turned his head around to face him, commenting how it had been such a brave act, and how he felt admiration for what he'd done. Of course he couldn't forget to mention Sehun, Luhan and Baekhyun, his closest friends, and for some reasons he spoke about Johnny, without forgetting his Thai boyfriend Chittaphon, even if he had never really spoken to him. He even mentioned that time when he'd caught the Thai boy's cousin – Park Jisung was his name if he remembered correctly –, watching him training, and how he'd stopped as soon as he had noticed the young boy's presence; that was when a Seo Johnny had appeared, scolding the boy and apologising to Taeyong.

It was quite astonishing how the two tributes managed to become close with one another in just those few hours separating them from the Hunger Games, with the help of just one, long conversation and a few shared cigarettes, watching as the sky gradually changed from black to that morning shade of orange at dawn. 

(They even not so accidentally let some compliments slip in between the conversation,

"No wonder the whole Panem fell for you. With those looks I bet you had boys and girls waiting in line to get a bit of you." Yoonoh chuckled with a smirk, not really looking at the older.

For some reason, Taeyong thought the black haired boy looked even more attractive while smirking.

"Nah, I've only liked a boy in my life, but as soon as I noticed he liked someone else I even helped the two get together and eventually got over him." he chuckled, cringing as he remembered the big crush he used to have on his friend.)

When they knew it was time to go, Yoonoh had turned around to face the older with a sincere smile spread on his pink lips. He pulled out his hand, grasping Taeyong's one and shaking it. 

"I got the wrong impression about you, Lee Taeyong, sorry about that. You're actually a nice guy," he spoke softly. "If we'd met in other circumstances I might have as well developed feelings for you." he added, joking, making a low chuckle escape the red head's lips. 

"May the odds be in your favour." 

(Little did both of them know how Yoonoh's statement shouldn't have been taken so much as a joke.) 

·𖥸·

Taeyong finally let himself fall on his knees, after he'd run what seemed like miles, all the while crying his eyes out in pain and mostly guilt. It was only after he'd finally stopped, that the boy realised how exhausted he actually was. He panted, craving the air his lungs had lost, while trying not to put many thoughts on the burn the fire had left on his left arm while he was trying to excape from his own mess.

His daze was broken by a sound coming from behind him, making him jump immediately on his feet and turn around, hand grasping the handle of the knife which he kept in his back pocket. To his surprise thought, when he approached, he was met by the sight of Jung Yoonoh, sitting on the ground and holding his right thigh in pain. Taeyong noticed blood trickling down his leg, and the stick of an arrow sticking out of the wound.

The younger gazed up at Taeyong, probably thinking he would've killed him right there and then, but the older had other plans in mind.

"You're injured." he stated, voice still trembling from the trauma of the previous events. It was a dumb statement, he knew as much, but it was the only proper sentence he could muster in that moment.

"No shit." Yoonoh replied faintly, pants leaving his lips and his features morphed into an expression full of pain.

Taeyong knew he could've just left the boy there, where he would've certainly died from an infection, but he'd felt a pang in his chest at the sight of him being in so much pain. He justified his act as sympathetic, when he approached the younger more and kneeled beside him, then taking off his backpack and looking for some medicine in it.

"What are you doing?" Yoonoh had been staring at him the whole time, a bit dumbfounded by the other's actions.

"I'm not leaving you die here. Now this will hurt." was Taeyong's reply, before he pulled out the tip of the arrow. 

·𖥸·

After he'd finished, Yoonoh was a panting mess, but he was also thankful to Taeyong for the work he'd done; he let his dark eyes travel on the older's left arm, where he was applying some medicine. 

"You're injured as well. Why would you treat my injures before yours?"

Taeyong himself didn't know. Receiving no answer, the younger decided to ask another question.

"Why were you crying like that?"

At that, Taeyong froze, before putting the medicine back into his backpack and covering his face with his hands. 

"I killed. Not one, but six people.  _Humans_. And they considered me an ally." the boy muttered, in pain.

The red head had indeed received some gasoline from an unknown sponsor, and since he already had a lighter, he knew what he was supposed to do; after the games had started, he'd agreed to become an ally with six other people, and with that group they'd killed a total of seven other tributes just in the second day. During night, they'd trusted Taeyong with the guard turn, little did they know how he would've betrayed them all, swiftly pouring the gasoline on their bodies and setting them on fire before they could fully wake up. He'd caused a mess, creating a bonfire which would've burned the whole forest area, if Gamemakers hadn't stopped it. Sadly they didn't stop it in time to prevent a limb of fire hitting Taeyong's arm, leaving a severe burn.

"It's okay, this is what we're supposed to do. Kill." Yoonoh said in an attempt to comfort the older. Taeyong found it weird, how Yoonoh tried to comfort him, and even went as far as placing a hand on his shoulder, softly squeezing it.

(Taeyong supposed it to be an act of repayment for having treated the younger's wound.)

Inhaling a shaky sigh, the red head finally uncovered his face, and found himself unable to divert his eyes from Yoonoh's. It was in that moment that he first felt a weird sensation in his gut, one which made a knot take form in his throat, and his heartbeat fasten its speed. Suddenly he felt Yoonoh's touch more than before, as if his skin had suddenly become more sensitive.

"Let's form an alliance, the two of us." was the sentence that broke Taeyong out of his trance. Frowning, he quickly shook his head.

"How could you ask me that after I told you what I did? You shouldn't be able to even trust me." the older said, even if deep down he knew he wouldn't have lain a hand on the black haired boy in a harmful way.

But Yoonoh smiled, that sincere and genuine smile which Taeyong was staring to like so much. 

"I have a feeling that tells me you wouldn't kill me, Taeyong."

And he was right. 

(Because in the end it wasn't him who did.)

·𖥸·

For the whole following two days and nights, they just hid from the three tributes left in the arena, enjoying each others company. They both discovered new things and new traits about the other, which they had no idea of. However the red head often felt weird when the younger spoke, unable to take his eyes off him, while his insides seemed to dance to some crazy music; he didn't know what this feeling was, and he decided not to care about it. 

(Or rather, he deep down knew what it was, but refused to admit it to himself.) 

There was this one cloudy night, when something happened. Taeyong and Yoonoh had been talking about more details of their previous life, as always, but it had taken a more personal turn, while they talked about each other's deep feelings. 

There had been a moment of silence, after something Taeyong had said, which he couldn't really remember; in that moment, they'd been staring at each other for long seconds, before Yoonoh had started leaning in towards the older. It had been a sudden noise of a cannon shot to snap them both out of their daze, and make them whip their heads towards the sky where the photo of the fallen tribute would've been shown. 

"Krystal Jung" Taeyong read lowly, receiving a sympathetic look by Yoonoh. 

"Were you close?" 

The red hair boy shook his head. "Not really." 

The fact that she was dead only meant one thing. The only people left in the arena were the two of them, Jongdae and Kim Jisoo from District Eleven. 

·𖥸·

It was the following night, when they finally met Jongdae, covered in blood; it had been a quite scary sight to see, but it was explained by Jisoo's body lying a few meters away from them. Taeyong had to rethink his impression about the seemingly nice and innocent older boy, after catching a brief glimpse of what Jisoo's body had been reduced to. 

"So, it's just the three of us, now." Jongdae started, a smirk adorning his features; the red haired boy thought that unlike Yoonoh, Jongdae looked more creepy than anything while smirking like that. Plus there was a glint of madness in his eyes, and Taeyong realised that the games had probably driven the poor boy crazy. 

Before anyone could move, he'd sprinted towards Taeyong, holding a machete towards him, and the red head thought it would've been the end for him. But just when he'd closed his eyes, waiting for the impact, something had collided with him with so much force to send him on the ground. 

With a groan, he sat up, head fuzzy and vision unclear; but he could see well enough to understand what'd just happened. He watched as Jongdae pulled the knife out of Yoonoh, the blade followed by a trail of dark blood. He watched as Jongdae side glanced at him, his smirk spreading more. He didn't even notice when he'd reached for his knife, sprinting towards the older without hesitation and making a deep cut down his right leg. After that, it had been a blur, Taeyong just remembered Jongdae escaping, leaving a track of blood behind him, and Yoonoh coughing up some more blood, before letting himself fall down. 

The shorter caught him in time, eyes wide opened as he slowly managed to bring Yoonoh near a tree, so he could sit with his back against the trunk. 

"No, no you'll be alright Yoonoh, just let me treat the wound-" Taeyong rambled with his words, breath fastening as he took a better look at the boy's wound. His flesh was open in his middle area, blood pouring out of it seemingly endlessy.

Kneeling over his sitting form, the red head took off his shirt, pressing the cloth hard against the wound, even if deep down he knew it was useless, that wasn't a wound which could be treated. The cloth was dirty, but it was the best Taeyong had at the moment. 

It seemed like the sky was crying in the eighteen years old boy's place, rain pouring down on their bodies, mixing up with Taeyong's tears.

Yoonoh could barely breath anymore, it was obvious he was on the verge of death, but still he was grasping onto that last bit of life he had been gifted with, only to do what he knew he was supposed to do. Weakly, he tried to pronunce the older's name, before managing to raise an arm with an unknown force; as his bloody fingers grazed Taeyong's wet cheek, he managed to move his brown, glossy eyes on the other's, as if trying to communicate something which his mouth was now unable to say. Needless to say how Taeyong was dragged in by that faint touch of that person he'd unconsciously learned to care so much about, until he physically couldn't lean forward anymore. And that's when the sky cleared up above them, and fireworks seemed to explode in both their minds as their lips moved together, molding perfectly like puzzle pieces belonging right to each other. Finally Taeyong knew, it was all clear. His feelings were clear. 

Yoonoh's hand fell from his cheek, at the same time when his lips stopped moving, after he'd exhaled his last breath. The red haired boy pulled back, only to find himself gazing into the other's eyes, which were no longer holding that glint of affection, but were dull, empty,  _dead_. Taeyong's muscles gave out as he sat down between his knees, hands in his hair and face lifted towards the starry sky. 

An agonising scream left his lips as hot tears streamed down his dirty face, but Taeyong couldn't even feel them, he didn't care. He didn't even care about how loud he was screaming, so loud that probably Jongdae was able to hear him and find his location, but he did not care. 

All he cared about was how his heart felt squeezed by an unknown force, leaving him suffocating and nauseated, how his limbs seemed not to hold any energy anymore, how the only thing he wanted was for someone to make that suffering stop for him. The only thing he could care about in that, dreadful moment, was the realization of having lost Jung Yoonoh, the best thing he'd found in that place, and the person whom he realised to have been in love with all along.

 

He swore he would've killed Jongdae, without hesitating, and he wouldn't have even felt regret as he'd felt after killing the other tributes. After he had no voice left to scream, he had weakly gotten up, dragging his feet while approaching Jisoo's body, trying non to look too much at it, for he would've thrown up for sure. Looking around, he found an axe, just like the one he'd been using to train before the Hunger Games. 

·𖥸·

As he was expecting, Jongdae hadn't gone that far, however, from where he was sitting he was still wearing that same, satisfied smirk. 

"Sorry that I killed your lover," he mocked. "But you're going to join him soon, anyway, you can't get here without stepping on the traps I've set." he then laughed, and it sounded so insane that it made Taeyong's skin crawl. 

Hearing him talking about Yoonoh in such a way, made him want to finish him there and then. 

"Shut up!" the younger shouted, feeling his heart once again rip into pieces. 

The ginger laughed again. 

"Oh, how sweet! Sacrificing his own life for his lover! I see you must be both hopeless romant-" he stopped talking all of a sudden. 

Of course he did. 

Because Taeyong's axe got stuck in his skull. Jongdae's eyes rolled back as his mouth hung open, and when the boy finally fell backwards, Taeyong was surprised and scared at the same time at his own feeling of satisfaction gained from his rival's death. But he was soon brought back to reality as realization hit him all at once like a train. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this year's Hunger Games, District Nine's Lee Taeyong!"

It was Taemin's voice which made Taeyong realise he'd won, he'd survived, and he would've been going back home soon. As much as he was relieved, he couldn't bring himself to be happy, for remembering Yoonoh made him feel part of his own heart was missing, like there was a huge, sinking hole in his chest.

·𖥸· 

Two weeks had passed. Two weeks since he'd won the hunger games. Two weeks since he'd lost everything he'd been looking for. 

Two weeks and he was finally going to get it, a permanent mark which would've forever reminded him of the person he'd been in love with and whom he'd lost thanks to those stupid, meaningless games. 

"It's done" said the tattoo artist, lifting her head and smiling brightly at her client, who had an hard time smiling back.

The odds had not been in his favour, at all; he'd won the Hunger Games, and any person would've been probably happy about it, but he hadn't been lucky, for after all he did not want to win. Not when he'd fallen for someone whom he was supposed to kill.

Not when fate had made him fall for  _Jung Yoonoh_ , whose name was now printed for life on Taeyong's forearm, as a reminder of what Capitol and taken away from him, someone Taeyong had loved.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i can't really write angst, i'm better at writing dramatic things, but when it comes to actual angst where someone dies I'm not really able to write it as sad as it should be ripp, but I hope it's still sad enough to be considered angst, eh.  
> if you liked it, please leave kudos! than you for reading <3


End file.
